By Fire
by Elzbeth
Summary: What if Joey woke to find Pacey watching her in the firelight? PJ story starts immediately after A Weekend in the Country and goes quickly AU.
1. Default Chapter

By the Fire - Prologue

Disclaimer: I'm a starving student, and own nothing but this computer and the books of my trade. I certainly do not own Joey, Pacey, Grams, Dawson, or anything else to do with Dawson's Creek, and am merely taking them out to play as a creative exercise.

Summary: What if Joey woke to find Pacey watching her in the firelight? P/J story starts immediately after A Weekend in the Country and goes quickly AU.

Author's Note: I only started watching Dawson's Creek this year, a result of a year off before grad school spent working from home, so this is my first D.C. fic. I adore the Joey/Pacey dynamic (I think Pacey in particular is a fantastic character), and wanted to toy with it a bit. What if Joey discovered Pacey's feelings before A.J. called her to ask her out? This first chapter is a bit short, but it seemed to stand by itself so nicely. Feedback is very much appreciated!!!

Pacey's POV

The firelight flickers, making shadows dance across Joey's face. It highlights one feature after another, each as perfect as the last. Her face has always haunted my dreams, teased around the edges of my consciousness. When we were kids, she was the girl whose pigtails I loved to pull, and while there was a brief time when we were genuinely enemies, fighting for Dawson's attention, for some time now the bickering has been a tooth and nail battle for my own sanity. At some level I've always known that if I didn't hate Joey Potter, I'd be left with no option but to love her. I tried with everything in me to keep up the biting jibes, to focus on her faults, even to push her towards Dawson. But then everything else in her life fell away, and suddenly I was the one left to pick up the pieces. What choice did I have? What could I possibly do but give everything that was in me, if anything in my power would be able to make her feel safe for even one second? How could I do anything but love her?

When Grams was talking about her husband, about sitting and watching him sleep, I couldn't help looking at Joey. I knew that I'd be happy to gaze at her forever, whether she was sleeping, laughing, smiling or frowning. So easily, so dangerously, so intoxicatingly easily, I can imagine the two of us sitting by our own fire, night after night, reading our favourite books to one another. I can imagine her eyes shining as I read Little Women, joining her past to what could be a beautiful future.

I'm not stupid, though. I am not so delusional as to imagine that this dream is actually attainable, something I could reach out and take. Pacey J. Witter could never be so lucky. I've repeatedly pointed out to Dawson that Joey is a goddess, and I've meant it every time, more than he could ever have guessed. Every day I thank whatever being guides my fate that I am allowed to have a creature like her in my life, and in the same breath I hope that I don't get struck down for daring to think that I could ever be worthy to touch her, to be with her. So I'll just sit here, content, for now at least, just to look.


	2. Spontaneous Cumbustion

As I drift into consciousness, I quickly become aware that I am not alone. The house is quiet, so I can hear the occasional pop of the fire's embers, and I can hear someone breathing somewhere nearby. A strange, but not entirely uncomfortable feeling drifts over me, and I strongly suspect that I am being watched. I stretch, rolling a neck sore from falling asleep on the couch. The breathing catches for a moment. Slowly, still more asleep than awake, I open my eyes and am somehow not surprised to see Pacey sitting on the other side of the fire, gazing steadily at me. It is clear from his posture that he has been there for some time, and the look on his face causes warmth to spread through my body. "Pacey?" I say, although I am perfectly aware who it is. His name comes out more invitingly, more sexily, than I'd intended. Since these are not things I have ever intended to be to Pacey Witter, I am surprised that I don't mind. He had frozen when I first looked at him, and he seems to need a breath or two before he can speak. When he speaks his words are hoarse, almost whispered.

"Yeah," he says, then slowly, as though drawn to me, but trying not to startle me, he eases out of the chair and approaches the couch. He kneels down next to it, his eyes still glued to my face, and I find myself melting in a very peculiar manner. "I'm here," he whispers, and I realize that he is both answering my question and asking for my approval.

The embers of the fire barely illuminate his face as I look at him, trying to figure out what is strange and different about this. It occurs to me suddenly that all the fear, all the tension, all the irritation I normally cover myself with when I am with him are gone, somehow shut out of the warm cocoon that is my living room in the firelight. All that is left is this incredible look in his eyes, and the strange, shaky feeling in my stomach ... butterflies. Out of the corner of my eye I see his hand lift slowly, as though he is trying not to disturb the spell we are both under. His fingers brush my hair back from my face as his thumb caresses my cheek, and this time it is my breath that catches in my throat.

--------------------------------------------

I am the biggest idiot on the planet. When I sat down I had every intention of keeping my distance, of watching nobly over the delightful damsel Josephine in her well-earned slumber, and slinking back to my role as helpful and amusing sidekick before anyone noticed my lapse. I assumed that at the very least Bessie and Bodie returning would kickstart my escape, and all I would have to do was make a semi-believable excuse and flee like the coward I am. But I didn't expect just watching her breathe could be so mesmerizing... nor did I consider what I would do if the lady herself were to awake.

She stretches, and rather than seeing it as a sign of impending consciousness I am instead further captivated, unable to breathe for as second as I watch her long limbs writhe and her head roll on the pillow. My moment of indulgence brings my downfall, because in the next moment she opens her eyes, and I am utterly transfixed. Then she says my name in this tone...I don't even have words for it, because suddenly I'm so far past coherent thought that I'm actually moving towards her. I think I tried to answer her, but my throat is dry and I'm still having trouble breathing. I don't care very much, though, because now I've reached her, and she's still looking at me, and I'm still looking at her, and the only thing I can think of to say is "I'm here." As soon as I hear myself say it I wonder whether it is a reply to her, or a confirmation to myself that this is not a dream.

There is a wonderfully inviting light in her eyes, leading me to believe that she is still more asleep than awake (surely Joey Potter would never look at me like that if she was fully conscious, would she?), but this conviction does nothing to the need to touch her. My hand is drawn to her face, slowly, so as not to disturb the quiet heaviness of the atmosphere between us. My fingers brush her skin, and I hear her gasp. Suddenly the room seems warmer than it did before. She leans up on one elbow, bring herself closer to me. As she does so, my hand slides back into her hair, cupping lightly the back of her neck.

The first trickles of fear begin to creep into my heart, and I wonder what I am getting myself into here. What was meant to be quiet brood over my unrequited love has turned into a much more exciting, but also much more dangerous, game. I can only hope that Joey stops this soon, because my thoughts are starting to be muddled by her proximity. Please, Jo, stop this now.

----------------------------------------------------------

When did Pacey become so magnetic? How did I not notice until now? After years of seeing him as an irritation and an impediment, suddenly his features appear in a whole new light, and I find myself glancing down at his mouth, then at his hand on the arm of the couch, and back up to his eyes. I have witnessed his transformation from a joking slacker to a serious and, for the most part, responsible young man. And sure, maybe from time to time I may have had to concede that he is not entirely un-attractive. And while I may, on very rare occasions, have found myself slightly weak in the knees after a hug from him, or when I catch him looking at me, I have never allowed myself to surrender this far. It's as though I was always looking at Pacey through a smudged pane of glass, but now the window is open and it is just Pacey and I, and I can't resist the gravitational pull propelling me towards him.

I am surprised to see fear in his eyes, and for some reason the knowledge that I have enough power over Pacey Witter for him to be afraid of me gives me confidence. I run one hand up his arm to his neck, and tangle my fingers in his hair. His eyes are wide and he appears frozen as I lean toward him. Then, throwing all caution to the wind I kiss him, and I know that nothing will ever be the same again. The first, gentle brush of our lips together sends a sharp shock to my heart. I give him a second, longer kiss to see if it happens again, and my senses go wild. I know that his hands are in my hair, clutching tightly, and that my arms are resting on his shoulders. The shocks that started in my heart are now shooting through my body as we kiss again, and again, and again. God, it was never like this with Dawson, or Jack. I feel almost drunk as I push forward wanting to be closer, ever closer.

--------------------------------------------------------

Josephine Potter is kissing me. Josephine Lillian Potter, the most exquisite goddess I could possibly imagine, is kissing me, and it is even more spectacular than I had thought it would be. All sense of space and time vanishes as she kisses me once, twice, then yet again. Our lips meet, and part, and slide against each other. Just the tip of her tongue touches mine, and I moan slightly, trying to lift up from my slightly awkward position to pull her more securely into my arms. Fear still pounds in my veins, desperate fear of what will happen when she comes to her senses, but I refuse to give this up any sooner than I have to, so when she leans towards me I move my hands from her hair to her back, holding her tightly against me as I curl around, slowly lowering her to the floor beneath me. I am half lying on her, but from the way she's clutching me I don't think she minds.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Dimly I am aware that I am suddenly on the floor. Pacey's arms held me so securely that I barely noticed as he lifted me off the couch, putting me into a position where he can continue to kiss me more comfortably. I wonder if I should mind being manhandled like that, but instead I find myself holding him close to me, excited by his bold move.

The sensible part of my brain, which seemed to take much longer to wake up than the rest of me, whispers that I should think it strange to be so forward with Pacey, in a first kiss, when I was hesitant and restrained with Dawson, but I push those suggestions to the back of my mind. The hand supporting him as he looms over me is next to my head, so he lets his thumb stroke my cheek. The other brushes along my side. Occasionally his fingers clench slightly, I suppose as I do something he likes.

There is something strange in the knowledge that I am interacting with Pacey, of all people, inspiring these sensations in him. On the other hand, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Recklessly curious, I brush his bottom lip with my tongue, before biting down lightly. To my delight he actually whimpers, and whispers "God, Jo," before breaking off to kiss me ever more deeply.

--------------------------------------------------------

I think I have it figured out. This whole thing is a ruse by Joey to do away with me for good by causing me to spontaneously combust. I seem to have tapped into the reserves of heat I always knew were simmering beneath her angry quips. One of the things that has frustrated me as long as I can remember is the awareness of the chemistry Jo and I share, but I've always been sure the fire would always be limited to vaguely hostile banter ... and frankly, I've spent a lot of energy trying to keep it that way. If I had known it was going to be this good, though, I would have taken action long ago.

Abandoning her mouth for a moment I hear and feel her breathing speed up as I move lower and start kissing her neck. I suck lightly on it and hear her sigh my name ... by far the most wonderful sound I have ever heard. Feeling daring, I bite down lightly, and am rewarded again as she says my name more loudly. I am smiling against her skin when a new voice causes me to jerk my head up in fear.

"What the hell is going on here?" demands Bessie, standing in the doorway.


	3. Caught in the Act

"What the hell is going on here?"

Bessie's voice breaks through the fog of delight which had clouded my brain from the moment Pacey moved his lips to my neck. How did I never realize that something so simple could feel so good? Pacey scrambles frantically away from me and stumbles slightly as he tries to stand. His eyes are wide and wary, and he shoves his hands deep in his pockets, looking at the ground for a second, taking a deep breath. I stand too, also trying to slow my breathing and my racing heart, which is beating so loudly Bessie must be able to hear it. I glance at Pacey and see that he is still watching me. His eyes glance briefly down at my mouth before gazing into my eyes, afraid and seeking re-assurance. I am still so overcome by what just happened that I cannot give him what he asks for, and I see bitter disappointment start to drift onto his face when Bessie's voice again pulls our bizarre fascination with each other. "Pacey!" she snaps. Pacey steps farther away from me and faces Bessie.

"I'm sorry, Bessie," he says in a low voice, and he cannot quite hide the tremor in his words. "That was my fault. You shouldn't have had to see that. I kissed Joey; she was just pushing me away." I can't look at him anymore. We both know that that was far from the case; I kissed him, and I definitely egged him on rather than rebuffed him. His willingness to protect me astounds me, my astonishment making me even less able to comment on the situation. I am ashamed of my weak willingness to go with his story, knowing what it will cost him in my sister's eyes. I know he enjoys the respect and acceptance he gets from my family, and it is a shock to see him put that at risk. Watching Bessie, I can see that she doesn't know whether to believe him or not. She can't have mistaken what she saw when she walked in, and she must know that when I uttered his name it was most certainly not in protest, but she also is not sure why Pacey would lie about this. She hasn't had enough exposure to the Witter Knight in Shining Armour persona. Deciding, for now at least, to take him at his word, she glares at him.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Pacey. I've always trusted you in my house, and you repay that how? I come home to find you mauling my little sister!" I see Pacey wince out of the corner of my eye, and I glance at him to see that he looks positively ill. I am paralyzed by indecision; do I speak up? Do I leave this be? Bessie temporarily makes up my mind for me by speaking again, this time to me. "I'm going to go help put Alexander down, and when I get back, you had better be alone here, young lady." With that, she stormed out of the room.

I look back at Pacey. He is standing still with his eyes closed, misery written plainly across his face. "Pace?" I whisper. I am afraid to speak too loudly, for fear of seeming hostile, but I am also afraid to touch him again. He doesn't move. "Pacey, I'm sorry," I start, seeing him open his eyes and turn slightly to me as I speak. "Look, none of that was your fault. I was the one who kissed you, and--" I break off as his fingers cover my mouth.

"Shh, Jo," he says quietly. "Don't worry about it. It's ok. Right now I'm not too sure what just happened here, and I don't think you know either, so maybe tonight we should go our separate ways and talk about this tomorrow when our heads are a bit clearer." I nod cautiously. He's still gazing at me, as though trying to decide whether or not to tell me something. He's so tense he is almost shaking, and he takes a deep breath. He steps a bit closer to me and takes my hands in his. "Look, I didn't want to say it this way, and I don't want you to think I'm putting any pressure on you, because I'm not. I don't expect anything from you, Jo. But before you go off and talk to Bessie, and dismiss this as adolescent hormones boiling over, I want you to know that I love you." I gasp and shake my head, but he keeps talking. "I don't know when it started, but I have for a long time, and I tried so hard to stop, but it wouldn't go away, and I can't do it any more. I can't not love you. And I know you don't love me, and that's ok. But this meant something to me, and you deserved to know that." I blink.

"Pacey, I don't know what to say," I start to say, and he sighs, and to my surprise he smiles affectionately at me.

"I know," he says, reaching up to run one hand down my hair. "I know." His touch starts my heart beating faster again. Somehow I have become hypersensitive to him, so that now even the slightest touch makes me shiver. "I know," he says again, so quietly that I think this time he meant it only for himself. He steps back and I feel colder than I had a moment before. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," he says, and turns away. In that instant I know that I need more from him than that. I reach out quickly and grab his hand.

"One more," I whisper, as I kiss him again, my other hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan that I find entirely too endearing, and clutches my hand, which somehow also makes my heart flutter, before stepping a fraction closer and resting his other hand lightly on the small of my back. This time he is careful and gentle, and somehow one kiss melts into another, and another. My sense of time again vanishes and I lean more into him, wrapping one arm around his neck. He tries to wrap his arms around me, and our unwillingness to release each others' hands causes my arm to be bent slightly awkwardly behind my back but the discomfort barely registers. My haze of pleasure is interrupted again by Bessie's angry voice, and I come crashing back down to reality as I realize that my sister has just walked in on me making out with Pacey for the second time in one evening. I leap back, wiping my palms on my jeans as I look from Bessie's furious glare to Pacey's wide, stunned eyes. His mouth is slightly open and he's having trouble catching his breath.

"Goodnight, Pacey," says Bessie, pointedly. He backs towards the door, almost tripping over the couch before turning and rushing away. Bessie waits until she hears the front door close before she speaks again. "So," She begins. "Was that all Pacey's fault too?"


	4. Post Mortem of a Kiss: Joey

"So, was that all Pacey's fault too?" Bessie is giving me a look somewhere between an angry glare and a knowing leer. Pacey may have fooled her the first time she walked in on us, but I was definitely not fighting him off the second.

I wipe sweaty palms that, I am all too aware, were just caressing him, on my jeans. I cannot help myself from nervously biting my lip, and find that I can still taste him, still feel his kiss. I am tense and jumpy, all my nerves still flaring from his touch, refusing to let me calm down. Bessie is still watching me, waiting for a comment. The knowing leer seems now to be the dominant expression. I open my mouth to answer, and though I am not sure what to say, as I begin to speak part of what just happens suddenly registers in my brain.

"He loves me," I say, still shocked by his declaration and trying to process it. Hearing the words makes it seem more real, so I say them again. "He loves me."

When Bessie left after first finding us I'd vaguely intended to make some excuses and flee to my room to think, but the stakes are now much higher and I think that if I can calm Bessie down a bit, I could really use some advice. I think I'd again fallen into an old habit of taking Pacey for granted, and only now that I am thinking more clearly do I realize that he would not have jeopardized our friendship for something as fleeting as a few kisses, however steamy and delicious. I wonder whether I can say the same.

Bessie is looking suspicious, and I feel sorry for Pacey that everyone should be so willing to assume the worst when it comes to him. "Are you just guessing that, or did he actually say so? Because you know, Jo, it's not unheard of for guys to say things they don't necessarily mean in the heat of the moment, or to get something they want..."

"Bessie!" I exclaim, honestly shocked. "Yes, he did say so, but only as he was leaving...he said that he didn't want me to discard it as just hormones, and that he'd loved me for a long time, and that he couldn't help it anymore, and that I needed to know that this had meant something to him. Besides...it wasn't his fault. Both times I started it."

Now Bessie was shocked. I didn't blame her; I don't think I've ever done anything so impulsive in my life, and normally anything at all sexual has me fleeing to the intellectual distance provided by excessive analysis. Maybe I should just keep talking; if I do, maybe I can explain it to myself as much as to her.

"I just...I was sleeping, and I woke up, and there he was. And it was like I suddenly realized that he'd always been there, waiting for me to wake up, and once I did there wasn't anything more important than him and me, and I saw that no one makes me feel like he does." Bessie is looking thoughtfully into the embers of the fire.

"And how is it that he makes you feel?" she asks.

"Alive," I whisper. "When he looks at me, I feel like the most powerful, most desirable woman in the world, and when he touches me, I feel more alive than I ever thought I could. And I can't believe I'm saying this about anyone, let alone Pacey, but it's true, and it's always been true, and for some reason I just didn't realize it until tonight."

"Ok, explain to me one thing. If this is all at your instigation, why did he jump forward to make it sound like he was forcing himself on you? Not that I believed him, really," she added. "I mean, the way you were grabbing him? And don't think I didn't hear that 'oh, Pacey,' when I was coming down the hallway." I blush at her imitation of me, but don't deny it. In all honesty, I don't have a clear recollection of what I was doing before she came in, and may very well be guilty of moaning like that.

"Well, he wasn't thinking very clearly," I start, knowing full well that I'm probably about the colour of a tomato by now. "I think all he registered was that you were angry, and he was trying to make you mad at him instead of at me. It's part of this whole protective, knight in shining armour complex he's got going." I try to stop myself from grinning goofily at how sweet he can be, and rather impose a look of casual scorn on my face. From the way Bessie's eyeing me, I don't think I quite succeed. I find myself growing rather defensive. After all, what right does she have to get angry at me for just kissing a boy?

"Besides," I say somewhat snarkily, "you've benefited from this. I mean, would we have ever gotten the B & B going without him? I don't think so. It's a good thing he saw us as damsels in distress. And anyway, why are you so mad? I'm in highschool. What's so wrong with kissing?"

"Nothing," says Bessie. "It's just...well, you were awfully...uninhibited. I mean, what ever happened to the angsty buildup before every step in a relationship? The excessive verbal analysis of every overture? I mean, even when you were dating Dawson and Jack, I never walked in on anything even remotely approaching what went on here tonight. I mean... that was pretty hot. I'm just worried. I don't want you being rushed into anything you're not ready for."

I wince at the reminder of Dawson. Bessie clearly notices, because her next question obliges me to think about what I've been avoiding all evening. "And what about Dawson? I mean, I guess you're entitled to a spicy fling on the way to your destiny with your soul mate, but with his best friend? That's not cool, Jo. That could tear you all apart."

"I know," I say miserably. And I really do know. And I'm pretty sure Pacey does too, and that it was one of the many reasons he's been sitting on the sidelines rather than pursuing me. "I don't want to make trouble. And if it was any other guy, I'd be so relieved. And if it was Dawson, I'd be thrilled. I spent so much of my life wrapped up in him, because he was so safe. And I always thought that was my future. But then Pacey came along, and he is so much more than we ever thought he was, and he challenges me, and sees me for what I am, and he loves me...and I don't have any idea what it is I feel for him." I look pleadingly at Bessie, wanting her to give me answers. "Do I love Dawson? And what about Pacey? Do I love him, or is it just...just lust?" I choke a bit on the last word, reluctant to admit the possibility that I could have been using Pacey in so crass a manner. Bessie gathers me in a hug, and I cling to her, embarrassingly close to tears.

"Well, you kissed him again after he told you he loved you, right? Do you love him too?"

"I don't know," I whisper, shame rushing through me. "I just knew that he was walking away, and I had to stop him because I needed...I don't know...more. He said that he didn't expect anything from me, and that he knew I didn't love him, but then I stopped him and I kissed him." I hated to think about what I had done to Pacey. I had known he wouldn't be able to push me away, and had kissed him without any thought of his declaration. Oh God, what if he thinks that I was trying to tell him that I love him, too? That is very much not something I can say with any confidence. He must be so confused right now. He was being so sweet and considerate, not to mention restrained, and I took what I wanted from him before sending him out into the night, alone. I know I've heard Dawson complain about how hard it is to be the person he sees himself as, but never until now have I really understood what he meant.

"Oh, honey," Bessie says sympathetically, rubbing my back as I start to cry. "I always thought you and Dawson were meant for each other, but you're right, Pacey's showing a side I never noticed before. I can't answer those questions for you, but I can tell you to follow your heart. Also, you need to tell Dawson what's going on." I tense noticeably at these words, but she keeps talking. "I know it will be hard, but it would be harder for him to find out on his own. I mean, if he had walked in when I did...well, that wouldn't have been pretty. I think you need to talk to Pacey, too, but before both those things you need to go through your own head and heart a little. At the very least, sleep on it all." I nod, recognizing sound advice even though I'm sure I won't be able to sleep a wink. I hug Bessie again.

"Thanks, Bessie," I say. "You've really helped."

"That's what big sisters are for," she says, grinning. "Now get to bed." I head off, but stop when she calls my name. "Just for the record...he's a good kisser, then? 'Cause I'm guessing it wasn't just any ordinary kiss that would make Joey Potter go that ga-ga." I'm blushing again, but this time I don't mind. For some reason Bessie makes this girl talk thing seem less repellant than usual.

"Oh yeah," I say, grinning. I turn and go up to my room, feeling my grin slide away as I contemplate the morning and the confrontations that must come.


	5. Post Mortem of a Kiss: Pacey

The walk from Joey's house to my temporary residence in Doug's bachelor pad passes in a blur. I know that I have some serious thinking to do, not only about what I'm going to say to her, but also about what I'm going to do about Dawson, and Andie, and all the other hazards that stand between me and Joey, but my train of thought seems to be stuck in a permanent loop replaying the night's events. I've only just left, and already the whole thing has a hazy, dreamlike quality about it. Is it possible I imagined it all? How is it, then, that I can still taste her, still smell her? No, it must have happened.

I stumble a bit coming into the apartment. My hands are still shaking, and I drop the keys, knocking against a bookcase as I bend to pick them up. I swear under my breath, cursing my clumsiness. She's reduced me to a bumbling idiot. I really wish I could resent her for that, but at the moment all I can feel when I think of her is a sharp longing that takes my breath away. Man. Andie had me pretty stirred up, but I don't think I've actually been this pathetic about a girl before. I walk over to the couch and collapse onto it, dropping my head to my hands. I take a few deep breaths, trying to force myself to calm down. Ok. Not working.

"I thought you were staying at the B&B again tonight," says my brother's voice. I jerk upright. How had I not noticed he was in the kitchen? I must be even more distracted than I'd thought. Scrambling for an excuse, I find my mind blank.

"Uh, no," I say, in lieu of anything more articulate. "I thought it best to not be there right now." Oh. I didn't mean to tell him that. Oops. Maybe he didn't catch it. I glance at his face. No, he's staring at me with an annoyingly determined and inquisitive look on his face. He's decided to have the story out of me.

"Did the weekend not go well?" he asks. After years with the Witter family code, I can easily translate this into "How did you screw up this time?" As always, the anger which always simmers in a dark place I choose not to visit too often bubbles up at new signs of disparagement.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I could do something right?" I exclaim, jumping up to yell at him. "Is it that impossible to think that I maybe pulled it off for once? That I actually managed to help someone? I am so sick of being the loser, the idiot, the spaz who can't take care of himself, let alone anyone else. I'm tired of..." I trail off at the bafflement on my brother's face. He clearly has no idea what I'm on about.

"Actually," he says mildly, "I was basing my assumption that something had gone wrong on the fact that you're pale as a ghost, your hands are shaking, and you appeared to be trying not to hyperventilate. But if it'll make you feel better, by all means keep ranting at me." Well, that sure took the wind out of my sails. I think back to how shaken and startled I'd been when he entered the room. Yeah, if I'd seen me I'd have realized something was wrong, too.

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly, collapsing back to the couch. "Sorry. It's been a weird evening."

"Do you want to talk about it?" asks my brother. I look up in surprise. "What, I can't be prepared to offer some fraternal advice? Look, Pacey, I know we don't always get along, but if you're this upset I'd like to help." I'm not sure what to say to this offer. On the one hand, Deputy Doug is hardly the ideal person to have a heart to heart with. On the other hand, this isn't exactly something I can take to Dawson. He'll hear the words "Joey" and "kiss" in the same sentence and probably try again to break my nose before I can say anything else. For someone who's supposed to be my best friend, he's awfully quick to turn on me. I debate stewing in silence, but when left to themselves my thoughts are rolling around in my head, far more prone to produce flashbacks of sensation than useful plans of action. I glance over at Dougie, who looks as bland as ever, but sincerely concerned. Well, here goes.

"So there's this girl," I start. A lame opening, I know, but just at the moment I don't care.

"Joey," says Doug, shockingly.

"Why the hell would you say Joey?" I demand. "How do you know it's not Jen? Or Andie? Or someone new?"

Dougie looks at me condescendingly. "Look, little brother, just because your friends are locked in the status quo and all see the world through Dawson-coloured glasses doesn't mean you're not blindingly obvious to the casual observer. Everything about you in the last few weeks has screamed 'unrequited love,' and if you add that together with all the time you're spending with Joey helping her get the B & B ready, not to mention the fact that you're increasingly awkward around Dawson...well, doesn't take a genius."

I stare at Dougie. I had no idea anyone had caught on. Well, except for Lindley, but she had a few more clues put in front of her. Hm, maybe I should have taken this up with her, instead. Still, Doug seems to have a fair idea what's going on, and I'm curious to hear what he has to say about the situation.

"Ok, so I'm in love with Joey," I say. I pause. I've never actually said it all the way through like that before, not out loud. I'm in love with Joey. Why, in my head, does that have such a ring of finality to it? I shiver at the feeling of doomed permanency that settles on me, the sense that this will ever after be an immovable aspect of my identity. My name is Pacey Witter. I was born in Capeside. I love Joey Potter. Doug breaks into my troubled reverie with a voice of irritating practicality.

"Well, that's been the case for awhile now. Why the sudden despair? Did you kiss her?" I shift uncomfortably.

"Not exactly," I mutter. Now Doug looks surprised. Well, it's a relief that he's not entirely psychic. "She kissed me," I explain. That makes it sound like she might be actually interested in me, which I'm still not entirely certain is the case, so I hasten to add "but it's my fault. Somehow."

"So she kissed you, but it's your fault. Only you're not sure how." Doug is looking at me like I'm a moron. This does not phase me, as he's been giving me that look for most of my life thus far. "Did you force her to kiss you somehow? Or did she think she was kissing someone else?"

"No!" I exclaim indignantly. "I'd never force her to do anything...and, well, she did kind of say my name when...well...I'm pretty sure at least that she knew it was me. But it was dark, and there was firelight, and she'd been asleep so she was all warm and sleepy and confused, and I guess I was just there. And next thing I know we're lying on the rug, we've lost all track of time, and Bessie's walking in on us." Ok, now he looks confused. Good, that makes two of us.

"Ok...well, does she know you love her?"

"She does now. I told her. And then she kissed me again!" This is the part that really baffles me. I honestly thought that telling her that would make her run for the hills, and she did look seriously spooked by my confession. Except that when I tried to make a quiet exit she stopped me. What was that? It didn't taste like an "I love you" kiss.

"So she loves you back?"

"No," I say immediately. I'm almost certain of this. "If Joey Potter loved me, I'm pretty sure the world would have to start spinning the other direction, and the stars would change their courses, and the creek would start running uphill." I pause, not sure how to say this in a way that doesn't sound disrespectful to Joey. "I think...I think that Joey's confused by the physical chemistry between us. I have more experience, so I can deal with that aspect of this. Also, it's not just physical for me, and that makes it different. But Jo...the only two guys she's dated are Dawson, who as much as he likes to think otherwise is pretty firmly in the PG-13 realm, and Jack, who's gay. She knows there's something here, but she doesn't know what it is, and doesn't know what to do with it. So when I caught her with her guard down she just went with it."

I've been looking at the carpet all through my little monologue, talking more to myself than to my brother. Having to talk about what happened allows me to put some of my thoughts in order, to organize them into conclusions I don't necessarily like, but can deal with. I glance at Doug, and am startled to see that he's looking at me with both respect and affection. I think that confuses me as much as anything else that's happened tonight. He claps a hand on my shoulder.

"I think that's a very mature thing to say, Pacey," he says, approvingly. "I think you're being too hard on yourself, though. Don't be so quick to assume you're out of the running. Joey may not really understand what's happening between the two of you, but she's not a girl to kiss a boy just because she happens to be attracted to him. Talk to her, give her a chance to decide for herself."

"Yeah," I say, still surprised that he's being so supportive. The situation is the same as it was when I left Joey's house, but I feel calmer, more hopeful than I had when I walked through the door. I briefly contemplate bringing up the Dawson issue, but the weekend is catching up to me and I'm too tired to go there tonight. Also, I'm reluctant to disturb the peaceful hopefulness Doug helped me find. I'll have lots of chances to worry about Dawson. "Thanks, Doug," I say, looking him straight in the eyes and hoping he knows how much I mean it.

"That's what older brothers are for," he says, smiling. "But don't think this means you're off the hook for skimping on your chores this weekend!" I grin. This side of Dougie I can deal with.

"I'd have thought you'd be grateful to be left alone with the Diva collection undisturbed by my uncouth presence," I say.

"Goodnight, Pacey," says Doug, trying to sound annoyed rather than amused, as usual.

"'Night Deputy Doug," I say. I lie back, this time purposefully invoking thoughts of Joey's touch, hoping the memories will follow me to my dreams.


	6. False Bravado

A.N.: As you can maybe tell, I've reached the point at which I'm not sure where the story is heading, but I'm going to keep winging it and hope I get my momentum back in the next update. It doesn't help that I've sort of stopped watching the show because right now they're airing seasons 5 and 6, which bug me...That said, if anyone is willing to beta future updates before I put them up, could you email me? I'd love someone to help me cut down my prose. I think I'm getting too wordy.

I'm trying to talk myself out of my nervousness as I enter the crowded halls of Capeside High School. I go to school every day. Well, every day I don't skip. And I see Joey Potter every day. Only today is the day we have to talk over the fact that I love her, and she's...well...attracted to me. This is a conversation I have been avoiding for a long time, and frankly would be perfectly happy to avoid indefinitely if I didn't think it would be incredibly unfair to both of us. All the same, I'm fairly certain that at some point during the next twenty-four hours I'm going to have to listen to her actually say the words "I don't love you," or something equivalent, and at the moment I can't think of anything that is less appealing than that. I'm perfectly happy to live in limbo as long as I still hold onto the small ray of hope I think will be dashed to pieces after I actually talk to her. All the same, I'm trying really hard to be mature about this. Joey means a lot to me, and she deserves more than juvenile avoidance tactics.

I round the corner, heading down the hall where her locker is, and sure enough, the crowds part to reveal her, standing there talking to Jen as though she doesn't have a care in the world. I'm fairly certain my face is painfully clearly expressing what I'm feeling, but in the moment when I first see her all my defences are down, and before I have a chance to regroup she turns to look at me, and my thoughts are freshly scattered.

---------------------------------------------

As predicted, I didn't get much sleep last night. I tossed and turned, and the little sleep I did get was filled with restless and disturbingly X-rated dreams featuring a certain cretin I'm trying really hard not to think about right now. With Dawson I pined, and with Jack I was mostly confused, but no one has ever worked me up into the kind of tizzy Pacey has.

I'm getting my books out of my locker, chatting idly with Jen, trying not to let on how distracted I am, when I see him. Jen's thanking me again for a wonderful weekend, which is really sweet of her, and passing on compliments from Grams, and all I can do is watch as he approaches us. He's got a look on his face that I realize, with some shock, I have seen many times before without being able to identify it. Now I can interpret it all too easily. Just by looking at me, he's saying 'I love you. I adore you. I'm giving my heart and soul to you; please don't hurt them too badly.' I know that all sounds terribly melodramatic, but so was the awful vulnerability on his face at that moment. Thank God Jen has her back to him. I hope he pulls himself together a bit before she notices him, which probably won't be long because I've clearly zoned out and am staring at him. Oops.

Jen turns to see what I'm looking at, and waves at Pacey. "Morning, Pacey!" she says kindly. He jumps slightly and turns to her.

"Morning, Jen. Have a good evening?" He's smirking, and almost looks like normal. Jen blushes. There must be a story here that I'm missing. Oh no, now he's turning back to me.

----------------------------------------

I try to stop myself, but I can't help it. "Good morning, Josphine," I say. I know my voice has gone soft and serious. I also know that I shouldn't be using her full name, but I love the sound of it, and I'm hoping Joey will give me a break this morning and refrain from calling me on it. Jen has to know what I'm thinking, but my casual banter skills have abandoned me this morning. Joey's looking at me uncertainly, biting her lip. I wonder what she would do if I were to reach out and run my thumb over that lip, then down her face and her neck to her shoulder. If I were to push her gently back against the lockers, cupping her face in one hand as I kissed her long, and slow, and deep, our bodies pressed tightly against one another...

-------------------------------------------------

Pacey's giving me that look again. Not the puppy dog one, but the one where I'm all he sees and he really wants to kiss me. I wonder what he would do if I ran a hand up his chest until I grabbed his face and pulled his lips down to mine. I wonder if he would make that amazing little sound at the back of his throat, if his hands would go to my waist, to pull me flush against him...

---------------------------------------------------

My, it looks like I wasn't the only one to have an interesting evening yesterday. Something clearly happened between Pacey and Joey, and I'm dying to know what. They're stuck in a hormonally-induced trance, completely ignoring me. Wow, are they ever lucky Dawson and Andie haven't shown up yet. I see them shift slightly towards each other, and should really say something before either of them does something they'll regret.

"So, Joey," I say with overdone cheerfulness. I smirk as she starts, looking nervously at me. Now I definitely have her attention. "Is there anything else I can help with at the B&B? I'd be happy to stop by lend a hand if you need any more help."

---------------------------------------------

Oh God. What the hell was that? I am turning into the worst kind of girly girl. I can't believe I let Pacey turn me into jelly like that with just a look. And now Jen's smirking at me. She must know something happened. If anyone could figure it out just by looking at the two of us, it would be her. Well, at least she doesn't seem to be angry. In fact, she seems rather amused. I suppose I should answer her.

"No, I think we're covered for now; thanks a lot for your offer. And please pass on my thanks to Grams. It was really great of her to help out this weekend." I am sincere in my appreciation, and I hope she knows that. It really was wonderful of everyone to help out.

-----------------------------------------------

Well, it's a good thing Jen's here. I'm going to have to talk to her at some point and get her feedback on what's going on. Also, get her to keep an eye on me in case I zone out again. Maybe I should have her chaperone Joey and I from now on. With the air this charged between us, I'm not entirely sure I trust myself alone around her at the moment. Joey's thanking her for this weekend, and I can tell she's honestly grateful. We're both lucky to have such good friends.

For a moment I'm able to put aside everything else that's happening and just be glad that the whole weekend turned out so well for the Potter family. My affection for the family is almost entirely separate from my feelings for Joey, and I've always wanted only the best for them. I like to think I'd have acted the same even if I didn't happen to be in love with the youngest Potter sister. In this flush of good will, I even manage to not be entirely put off by the appearance of Dawson.

"Hi guys!" he exclaims, and I can't help but notice that Joey glances at me with a guilty, stricken expression before looking back at him. I hope she catches my re-assuring glance, but I am quickly turning away from her to Dawson, greeting him with a heartiness that anyone else would see as false. However, I have almost unlimited faith in Dawson's complete inability to see any change that isn't forced upon him.

"Hey, man," I grin. I clap him on the shoulder, forcing myself to seem comfortable around him. In a cliché that none of us would tolerate in fiction the bell rings at that moment, providing a convenient exit from the awkward scene. I turn to Joey, staying pointedly casual.

-----------------------------------------

I don't know how Pacey is acting like normal. I suppose, if he's to be believed, he's been hiding things and acting casual for a long time now. He has more practice than I do. I can't see any hesitation in his interaction with Dawson, which is good, because it means he's occupying our friend's attention. I barely hide a sigh of relief when the bell goes. I'm shoving the last of my books hurriedly into my bag, and I jump when Pacey touches my arm. I look at his hand resting on my bare skin, and he quickly removes it.

"Listen, Jo, I just remembered what I forgot to tell you last night." There's more? What else does he want to say? "I wanted to talk to you about the heat," he said, and my eyes widen. What's he doing talking about this in front of other people? Am I the only one who notices how sexy and husky his voice is? And speaking of heat, is it warm in here or is it just me? "You might want to give Bessie a heads up that the furnace guy is coming by today." I heave a sigh of relief, relaxing until I hear what comes next. A spark of humour glistens briefly in Pacey's eye as he sees me pondering the two ways our conversation can be interpreted. "I thought maybe I could stop by tonight and you could tell me what he says...so I can fix it better next time." His posture is casual, probably because Dawson's standing behind him, but his eyes are looking intently into mine. I guess he was serious about talking today.

"Yeah, that sounds great," I say, quietly. "Thanks." He gives me a simple, sincere smile, one without any strings attached, just gladness that we're friends. I smile back, despite my fears that nothing will ever be simple again.

"See you later, then," he says, and if I didn't know better I'd really assume that we were only discussing household maintenance. He turns back to Dawson, who's waiting for him. "You coming, man?" he asks, grinning, and the two walk off for class .,. leaving me with Jen. She's looking at me expectantly. I'd love to get rid of her, but she's in my first period class. Damn.

"So, you want to tell me what's going on?" she asks. "Because if, say, there was some circumstance that you wanted to talk about, it's often helpful to get another girl's opinion, especially if it's something that you can't talk to your best friend about, for some reason..." I sigh in exasperation. She's probably right, but after Bessie, and knowing the conversation I have to have with Pacey later, talking is the last thing I want to do right now.

"I don't know what you're talking about ," I say, lying through my teeth. "Nothing unusual's going on. You must be imagining it." I sweep past her, letting the crowds of students in the hall to separate us.


	7. The Talk

Author's Note: Finally, the next chapter! You will notice that some of this involves wishful thinking, given that the characters here are clearly are not reacting as they did on the show. But hey, that's part of the fun of fic. Also, a gazillion thanks to Kel and Kim for their help!

"So, Pacey's coming by here later to talk" Bessie confirms for the millionth time since I got home from school. I thought it was best to let her know, if only so she doesn't get pissy at me again when he shows up.

"Yes" I say, and she raises her eyebrows at my testy tone, as though I don't have every right to be on edge. I've spent the whole day at school mulling over the conversation I'm about to have, and I still don't have any clear idea what it is I'm going to say. I wish I didn't feel this way about Pacey, but since I do, I wish I knew what this feeling is. If I do decide to act on it, I wish I knew how Dawson would react. I wish Pacey wasn't being so selfless, because he's making me feel like a heel. When I was dealing with Dawson, I knew that at the very least he would fight for what he wanted. I have a feeling Pacey will go along with whatever I say I think is best, regardless of the cost to him.

I take my frustration out on a bunch of carrots, chopping them into uneven chunks. If Bodie were here he'd make fun of me for them, so I take a deep breath and force myself to be more careful. Although I have been waiting for it, I am nevertheless so startled when I do hear a knock on the door that I nick myself with the knife. I swear, and tell Bessie to get the door. She smirks at me and moves to the door as I run my thumb under cold water. "Pacey" Bessie says welcomingly.

"Hey, Bessie" he says. I can hear in his voice the false bravado he so often whips out when he's nervous. Given how much Bessie laid into him the last time he saw her, I don't blame him for being hesitant. I turn off the water and turn around. Pacey is standing just inside the doorway, shifting awkwardly on his feet, holding a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers. My cut forgotten, my jaw drops open.

"Pacey, hi" I stammer. Bessie slips out of the room. "You brought me flowers" He shrugs, giving me a self-deprecating grin.

"Well, I've been spending all this time trying to quell these romantic impulses so you didn't figure me out, but at this point the cat's pretty much out of the bag, so I might as well give in."

-

Joey's looking at me like she's torn between wanting to yell at me, and wanting to do the girly melting thing. Knowing Joey, she's more likely to yell at me, but I figure that this evening either I will be told firmly to back off, in which case the window of opportunity for being openly in love with her is small and I should take advantage of it, or else, miracle of miracles, she might (not that she will, but I don't want to be too defeatist) actually decide we can pursue this...in which case flowers are a good way to start out. Much to my surprise, she smiles shyly and comes forward to take the flowers from me. She gives me an awkward, one-armed hug, and I return it as much as I dare. I stay silent as she rummages around in a cupboard for a vase, fills it with water, and arranges the flowers. Finally, I can't take it anymore. Even if I don't like the end, I'd kind of like to get this over with.

"So, maybe we could go out to the dock to talk" I suggest. I really don't want to risk Bessie eavesdropping on this conversation. Joey agrees, and we head out the door. The sun is just edging towards the horizon, although it's still at least two hours before it will be dark. Glancing at Joey I feel the same awe I always seem to when I look at her. For months now, just a peek at her profile has been able to take my breath away. The knowledge that I don't have to hide my feelings anymore brings a certain giddy, incredulous lightness, and it gives me courage to reach for her hand.

-

I jump a bit when he takes my hand. It feels disturbingly right to hold hands like this, but I don't really think I should encourage him. I look at him uncertainly, and see that he is gazing steadily at me. "Please" he whispers. The simple request goes straight to my heart. I smile slightly, and leave my hand in his as we walk down to the end of the dock. The sunset on the creek creates a quiet, romantic atmosphere. I wonder if he planned that, but as I look at him I see no guile in his expression.

"So" I lead, not actually having anything to say, but wanting to kickstart the conversation.

"So" he says, equally clueless. He's looking out at the creek, so I take the opportunity to study him. I don't know why I didn't realize until this year how handsome he is. I suppose he's grown up a lot recently, and that maturity lends a certain something to his demeanour. Add to that his sudden assumption of the role of romantic hero, and I'm not sure what to do with him. He played the comic sidekick well. I wonder now whether he might be even better in a new role, if given the opportunity.

His thumb is caressing the back of my hand. I don't even know if he's aware of it, but it makes my heartbeat start to speed up. Reluctantly, I take back my hand. Now he looks at me, hurt spreading across his face.

"I...I can't think when you're touching me" I admit in a whisper. "And this matters."

-

Well, I have no idea what to say to that. Obviously I want to keep touching her, but an honest statement like that is the best way to knock the wind out of me. Ok, so clearly we have some pretty potent chemistry going here. Not that I didn't know that before, but it's still kind of a shock to be reminded of it. Unlike Dawson, I don't want to pull any emotional or physical blackmail just to get her to be with me (I'm sorry, was that a bit snide?). If it's me she wants, I'll be over the moon. If not...well, that's what I expected all along. Somehow, I'll survive. I suppose I'd better start the conversation. I wonder when I became the mature, responsible one in our little triangle.

"Look, Joey...what I said last night...I meant it." Not the most suave opening in the world, but I thought I should lay that out at the beginning.

"How long" She asks, quietly. 'How long what?' I wonder, but before I ask, she clarifies. "How long have you...have you loved me" She has trouble getting it out, but to her credit, she does in the end.

"Forever" I sigh, wearily. She looks at me in surprise. "I mean, it's not like I was pining for you every second, and I suppose really consciously only a few months, but when I look back, it's always been you, on some level. Only you never wanted me. It was always Dawson." She clearly decides to pass on the Dawson issue for the moment. We're going to have to go there at some point, but I'm just as happy to put that off.

"What were you planning to do" she asks now. I shrug.

"Nothing. Don't look so surprised. What was I supposed to do? If you recall, the last time I tried anything with you I was rather firmly rejected, and I wasn't in a hurry for that to happen any time soon. If I didn't say anything, we were still friends. We could still hang out, and do that banter thing we do, and I could still do things for and with you without you looking for ulterior motives all over the place. I figure status quo is better than you feeling like you need to be on guard any time you're around me." Joey is silent, I suppose thinking about what I've said. I'm kind of on a roll, so I decide to push on.

"So now you know what my deal is, what about you? I can read you pretty well, but I'm not sure what's going on in your heart right now. I do think you owe it to both of us to be honest with yourself. I'm not going to be angry, and I don't want you to tell me what you think I want to hear. Please, just...just tell me what you want."

-

I don't have to look at Pacey to know that everything he's saying is true. It's incredible to be loved so completely and selflessly. No one, outside of my family, has ever made me feel so safe and wanted. I don't know what I could have done to deserve Pacey's love, and I certainly don't know what to do now that I have it. How do I feel? I glance at him, sitting patiently and understandingly, waiting for my answer. I'm overwhelmed by how touched I am that he could feel all this for me, do so much for me. I slide closer to him.

"Pacey, I know this isn't an answer, but I'm going to have to kiss you right now" I say, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. He grins ruefully, and I lean forward, gently placing my lips on his. For a moment he freezes, then I feel his hand come up to cup my jaw, his thumb caressing my cheek as he breaks the kiss, but rather than moving away he kisses me slightly more firmly. This is not the frantic making out of the night before, but a dreamy succession of kisses which show me Pacey's love as clearly as his declaration. He's not touching me at all except the hand on my face and the sweet, delicious brush of his lips on mine, but the way he lingers and sighs tells me there is nowhere else he would rather be, nothing he would rather be doing.

-

This is it. This is heaven. I think this is almost better than the explosive passion of the night before (almost...hey, I'm not a saint). Just the two of us and the sunset, Joey sitting by me with a dreamy smile on her face any time I pull away enough to look at her. I know I was going to try to force us to talk this out before I succumbed again, but I couldn't help myself. I am a weak, weak man, and Joey Potter is my biggest vulnerability. I hope I can do this forever. I am happily floating in a dreamlike state of contentment making me deaf to any distractions, which I suppose is why I don't hear anyone approach. I am cruelly and sharply brought to earth by the one sound I absolutely do not want to hear right now. Joey and I both jerk back sharply as we hear Dawson's voice. For heaven's sake, can I not, just once, kiss the woman I love without being interrupted?

I stand up; this is not a conversation where I want to give my opponent the advantage of towering over me. I reach out a hand to help Joey up, and much to my surprise she doesn't let go when we're upright. As we look at him, Dawson repeats his question. "I ask again: how long has this been going on for"

"It hasn't" I say, shortly. Maybe I should be trying to keep the hostility level of this conversation down, but I'm tired of Dawson viewing Joey as his property, and now that it seems I might actually have a chance with her I'm determined to stand up for the two of us.

"Do you want to explain what it was I just saw, then" he says in an obnoxiously snarky way.

"Well we were just trying to figure it out ourselves, but that's a lot harder to do with an audience" I say, equally snarkily.

-

I can see Pacey's getting angry. That isn't going to help at all, so I decide to jump in. Still holding his hand, I reach over and put my hand on his arm, hoping to calm him. It works, I think. Dawson, on the other hand, looks sharply down to where I'm touching him. It clearly irritates him, but since he just caught us kissing, I figure the damage is pretty much done. Plus, I don't really want to stop touching Pacey, and frankly at the moment he's a much more comforting presence.

"Dawson, not that it's any of your business, but it started last night. You'll have to forgive us if we took 24 hours to ourselves to figure out what is going on between us before we start involving other people."

Dawson is stunned. I don't think it occurred to him that we would ever even consider sorting anything out without him. "Pacey and I have something very serious happening here, and although it's new and unexpected, I think we need to figure out what it is. And you need to let that happen." Now Pacey is just as stunned. I don't think he expected me to stick up for the two of us. Frankly, I didn't expect it. I squeeze his hand comfortingly, a gesture that is not lost on Dawson. He turns to Pacey.

"When I sent you after Joey to be her friend, I didn't mean you should try to put the moves on her. What, you were bored so you tried to get some action? This is my soulmate you're trying to steal! Just because we were taking a break, you thought you could move in on her? This is how you repay a lifetime of friendship"

"This has nothing to do with you, Dawson" says Pacey quietly. He's making an effort to be as non-confrontational as possible. "Newsflash: there are things in my life, and in Joey's life, that are not dictated by you. Now the fact that I fell in love with Joey has nothing to do with you, although the fact that I tried to ignore it for years does. If she wants to be with me, it has nothing to do with you. We both value your friendship, but you can't run our lives." Dawson is so appalled that he turns back to me.

"Joey, please. I know we weren't meant to be together in the fall, but that doesn't mean I gave up on you. Please don't give up on me." His simple words evoke a lifetime of trust, of waiting. Looking at his pleading face, I don't know how to say no to him. All my anger evaporates, and I am left feeling helpless. My grasp on Pacey's hand grows weaker. I see hopelessness on Pacey's face as I step away from him, although I do not get any closer to Dawson.

"I don't know what to do" I say, and I am looking at Pacey because he is still, somehow, the one I know I can rely on.

"Do what you want to do" he says, and it is not an offhand comment but a plea for me to listen to my heart. I know that he means it, even though it might not mean going towards him.

"Do what you were meant to do" says Dawson, and although I can't help but rebel a bit at the possessive assumption of this statement, I don't know whether I can deny it. I look back and forth between the two of them. A large part of me wants to fling myself into Pacey's arms and tell him never to let me go, but I can feel the tides of history pulling me towards Dawson. Panic rises up in my chest, choking me. There's no way I can even begin to make a choice of this magnitude. I can't believe they are putting me in this position.

"No" I say. "You can't put me on the spot like this. Either of you" I say, glaring at them both. I plough over any objections they have.

"I don't know what I feel right now" I say. "You know that." I address this last bit to Pacey, because I know he does. Dawson...well, Dawson is going to have to deal. "Please" I say, addressing my plea to them both, although I feel a pang as I remember Pacey earlier, begging just to hold my hand. "Give me time." Pacey nods, watching me carefully. I know that he is disappointed, but this is probably a more fair answer than he had expected to get tonight. I gaze steadily at Dawson until he, too, nods. "Ok, then" I say. "I will see you two at school tomorrow, not before. And if either of you turns up dead in the creek, I'll know who to blame." With that, I stalk off towards the house.

-

Well, that could have gone better, but it could also have been catastrophically worse. At the very least, I now know that Joey acknowledges that she has some feelings for me, and even better, she told Dawson as much. Of course, she also left me alone out here with him. Damn, and I do still need to talk to Bessie. I wonder if I can do that without either Joey or Dawson getting any madder at me. Guess I'll tackle Goldenboy first.

"Look, Dawson, I know you're mad at me, and you probably have a right to be, and we should probably talk about that, but before we leave I really do need to go check in to make sure everything's ok with the heating." Dawson's eyes immediately narrow with suspicion. This isn't the first time, and it probably won't be the last, but it still hurts every time Dawson believes the worst about me. For years he was my best friend, the person who knew me best in the world, and I'm still stunned that these are the conclusions he came to.

"You honestly expect me to let you go in that house? You think that you can persuade Joey to make out with you some more, is that it"

"God, Dawson, listen to yourself! Joey wants space; she gets space. But as hard as this is for you to understand, I am a friend of the family, and I've been helping out here for a long time. Think what you want about me, but I don't make a commitment and then run out on it." Oh, boy, now I've done it. If this were a cartoon there'd be smoke coming out of his ears. His hands are clenched into tight fists. I hope he doesn't hit me again; I'm not drunk this time, and I will hit back. I'd really prefer not to have to explain to Joey why one or both of us have black eyes in the morning, though.

"Like a commitment to a friend, to look after his girl" I knew he'd bring that up. I sigh in exasperation.

"Look, Dawson, I tried to beg out of that. Why do you think that was? Because I didn't want to spend time with Joey? Open your eyes! For years now I've been looking out for her, every time you're too blind to see there's something wrong, which is amazingly often considering how much you claim to care for her. I have been trying not to feel like this for so long I don't know how to do anything else. I stepped aside, I kept back, so many times for you. And surely you, of all people, can understand falling for Joey. I mean, if you spend any amount of time with her, how do you not? How did you expect anyone to touch that beautiful soul, to look at those amazing eyes, to be lucky enough to be in her presence, and not see her for the goddess that she is" I'm almost yelling now, so I step back and take a breath, trying to calm myself.

"Dawson, man, you're my friend. And that means more to me than you will ever know. You've been with me through some truly dark days when no one else was. But I can't back down on this. And if you think this has been easy for me, you're crazy. If I could stop this, I would. I know that going after the best friend's girl is the most despicable thing possible in the friend manual, but you have to believe me that this is completely outside my control. I wouldn't ever want to hurt you." Dawson is looking at me with a blank expression.

"Part of me doesn't want to believe you" he says in a surprisingly even tone. "Seeing the two of you like that hurt so much...I can't even process it yet. All I want to do is yell and hit something." I must back up slightly, because he gives a wry, humourless chuckle.

"Don't worry" he says. "I'm not going to hit you this time."

"Oh, good" I say, trying to inject some humour into the situation. "Because I'd hate to have to take you down." I get a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

"So where does this leave us" he asks.

"Well, that's really up to the lovely Josephine, isn't it" I ask. "But as for the two of us...I'd like us to still be friends. Somehow."

"What if she chooses me" Dawson asks quietly. "Would you still be my friend" Just the thought of that hurts me more than I thought it would. After all, that is what I've been preparing myself for forever.

"I think I'd need some space for awhile" I answer honestly. "But yes, I like to think that I would still consider you a friend." I look straight at Dawson as I say this, hoping he knows I'm speaking the truth. He nods.

"I hope that's also true of me" he says. Something suddenly occurs to him. "What about Andie? Does she know? I mean, I know you guys broke up awhile ago, but..."

"But it was kind of messy" I finish. "Yeah, I was going to talk to her tomorrow. I don't want to hurt her, but she deserves to know. And if Joey and I had decided that we were going to do anything, we would have told you tomorrow." He shrugs, but I think that's more sour grapes than actual doubt.

"So we pretend nothing's happened until Joey decides something" he asks.

"Well, we can't exactly all avoid each other. I think we need to try to do our best to be there for her. She knows what we want, but that doesn't mean we stop being her friends" I say.

"How do you manage to be so calm about this? Can you still be friends with her just like that"

"What do you think I've been doing up 'til now" I ask, shrugging. "Anyway, are you going to let me..." I jerk my head in the direction of the house.

"I'm coming with you, then we're both going home" Dawson says, the fragile trust I'd built up in the last few minutes dissolving in seconds as he contemplates what could happen if he leaves me alone in Joey's vicinity. I sigh, but agree, and we both head towards the house.


	8. Recantation

As I did yesterday, I approach the school with some hesitation. Today, however, I am significantly more optimistic. Hearing Joey admit to Dawson that there was something happening between us is better than all the best-case scenarios I could have thought up before that confrontation. Bessie was surprisingly considerate, too; she was nice to me in front of Dawson, which was a relief because he would have been entirely too smug if he thought she was playing favourites, and only took me aside briefly to say that we should talk at some later date.

Between Joey, Dawson, Jen, Bessie, and Andie, I think I may very well spend the rest of my life talking about what's happening here. Of course, while I'm waiting for Joey to make up her mind I suppose I can't think of anything better to do than talking about her, and to her, and hopefully getting some encouragement, so maybe that's not such a bad thing. Except that talking to her leads to wanting to kiss her, which I'm pretty sure is on the depressingly long list of things I'm not supposed to do while I'm 'giving her space'. Still, there is the possibility of someday being able to kiss her again, so I should probably be counting my blessings here.

Speaking of the lovely Josephine, there she is, again at her locker. I should probably not admit to how carefully I have calculated my timing to ensure that I regularly walk down this hallway when she is collecting books. '"Morning, Jo," I say in a manner that I know she will notice is less glib than usual. I can't help smiling tenderly at her as she turns around, a shy, hesitant grin teasing the edges of her lips.

"Hi, Pacey," she answers. I would never have imagined Joey could be this hesitant around me. If she's this unsure it means this is, on some level, actually happening; if she really still saw me as the moron who pulled her pigtails, she would have put me in my place by now. She closes the locker door and glances down the hall, plainly at a loss for words. I clear my throat to get her attention back.

"Here, let me take that for you," I say, reaching for her schoolbag. She refuses to release the strap, and my hand ends up curled around hers. I can't help but notice that she isn't trying very hard to pull away.

"Pacey, you don't need to do that. This isn't the fifth grade, and you're not going to prove your feelings by carrying my books around for me," she says, looking both exasperated and amused.

"I know I don't need to. As much as it may startle you to learn this, really I just like doing nice things for you. It makes me happy. See? This is exactly why I didn't want to say anything. Now you think that everything I do comes with a price tag. Just let me take the damn bag for you. I promise I won't allow your willingness to let me be your pack mule in any way suggest that you might in some form be fond of me." I get a classic Potter eyeroll for that, which I enjoy almost as much as the sweet smile that follows it.

"Well, don't let it go to your head," she says in the flat, sarcastic patented Joey Potter manner that I love so much it scares me.

So I've spent all night trying to be rational and understanding about the whole Joey and Pacey thing. A large part of me really wants to give Joey, at least, the benefit of the doubt. After all, she is my soul-mate. Not to mention that there's some precedent for Joey being a bit confused when it comes to her love-life.

I hated to think that Pacey was backsliding after all the personal growth I gave him credit for just the other day, but let's face it, Pacey doesn't exactly have 'romantic hero' written all over him. I can't believe I let him fool me with his glib comments. The more I thought about it, the clearer his deception became. All year, he was giving me a hard time about Joey, acting as though he wanted me to give her another chance, when clearly he knew he was making me so paranoid that I'd avoid her entirely, allowing him to spend all his time alone with her. All the times he waxed lyrical about Joey, about how beautiful, how intelligent, how special she was, I really thought he was speaking as a disinterested observer; clearly I knew he thought her attractive, but I never thought he actually wanted her in more than a purely abstract manner. I assumed that the friendship between all three of us meant more to him than the fact that Joey, much to our surprise, turned out to be really hot. Clearly I was wrong. I've spent all night getting more and more angry at Pacey, and now I walk into school and I see this?

I shouldn't be surprised that he's at her locker. Obviously, his intention to give her space only extended as far as getting me away from her house. What is worse is that they're holding hands. It looks like he was trying to take her bag, but her hand is in his and she doesn't seem to have any intention of moving it away (nor, of course, does he). What kills me is the way they're looking at each other. He doesn't get to look at her like that...look at her at all. Like he is allowed to smile at her and show her that he thinks she's wonderful. He's not allowed to look at her and know what it's like to kiss her.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Joey seems to have fallen for it. She's got that cute, bashful smile, the one she gets when you compliment her, and she really wants to believe you but can't quite. It's the one I give her. I've never seen any other guy make her smile like that and the sight of the two of them, my soul-mate and my best friend, gazing at each other makes me see red.

I don't notice Jen coming up behind me, but I definitely notice her comment: "You have to admit, they are kind of cute." I glower.

"I don't have to admit any such thing. I don't see what's so cute about a guy's best friend moving in on his soul-mate because he happens to think she's hot, and she's alone and vulnerable. I'm sure there's some other girl in Capeside he could be screwing without stringing Joey along." I glance back at Jen to see that she's looking at me with...is that pity?

"Dawson," she says, in that oh-so-reasonable tone she uses to dissect relationships and break unpleasant news. "You don't really think that's what's happening here." I don't? That's news to me.

"Really? Because that really is what it looks at from my point of view. Two days ago Pacey was saying he couldn't wait for Joey to be taken off his hands. Then yesterday I catch them kissing on her dock. It looks exactly to me like he's using the fact that he's more...experienced...to fool her into thinking he actually loves her. Hell, he even had me almost believing it for a minute there."

"Dawson, you can't honestly think Pacey is that callous. He's been best friends with both you and Joey forever! He's an honourable person. He would never do that to anyone, let alone you and Joey."

"What the hell happened? It's like one minute he's this complete spaz, then I go away for the summer, and I get back and all the girls I know are falling all over themselves for him!" Jen gives me one of her ultra-sophisticated "I'm from New York and know more about life than you ever will" looks. I don't think I ever realized how much it irritates me until this moment.

"Dawson, are you mad because for once Pacey is the one with a life instead of you? That maybe he's taking just a little bit of your limelight, and asking you to be the supportive friend for a change?"

"No, I'm mad because he's trying to steal my girl, and I'm mad that he's inevitably going to hurt the person who's most important in my life."

"Dawson, if Joey is willing to go out with Pacey, and can I point out here that she hasn't been your girlfriend for like nine months now, and that he hasn't made a move yet, has it occurred to you that force isn't going to bring her back, and that she might actually have moved on? You throwing a hissy fit isn't going to do anything other than drive them together. I'm not sure you understand how close they've become this past year while you haven't been getting along so well with Joey."

"So you're saying that this is my fault," I object.

"No, I'm saying things happen, and that you need to leave it be," she replies. The false calm I'd forced on myself is quickly vanishing. I don't know how I let Pacey convince me that his intentions were honourable. After a night spent tossing and turning, haunted by the image of my two best friends kissing, and worse as nightmare images floated through my mind, I know I've let him off easy. Seeing Jen this willing to stick up for Pacey is just another symptom of how suave he manages to be with the girls in my life. Somehow he's managed to get them all on his side. He can't get away with this.

The sound of rising voices distracts me from Pacey's smile. If I get this hypnotized every time I'm talking to him, it could get really time-consuming. I see Dawson and Jen arguing. He's gesturing to me, so I can guess what they're arguing about. I hope Jen's sticking up for Pacey.

Pacey immediately notices my distraction, and turns to figure out what caught my attention. He frowns, and I'm sure he's again distressed again by Dawson's apparent lack of faith in him, as he was during the PSAT debacle. It always makes me angry when Dawson does that; I don't think he realizes how little self-esteem Pacey has to begin with. I make fun of him because he knows not to take any of it too seriously, but Dawson's doubts really hurt him, I think. It occurs to me, not for the first time, how self-absorbed Dawson can be. Somehow I don't feel the need to be as indulgent of that as I once did.

"Should we launch a rescue mission?" he says reluctantly.

"Whom are we rescuing, Jen or Dawson?" I say, grinning. He relaxes slightly, I think relieved that I don't feel the need to go running to Dawson.

"So maybe we should just leave them to it...?" he asks leadingly, giving me an enticing smile while tugging lightly on the hand I only now realize he's still holding. There's enough self-doubt in his eyes that I couldn't refuse him if I wanted to, which I really don't.

"Probably for the best," I agree easily. "But give me back my bag." He concedes the point easily, I suppose considering himself lucky that I am walking with him away from Dawson. Looking back, I realize that little compromises like that have been a staple of our relationship for a long time now. I feel kind of bad that he felt the need to go to such lengths for what I see as fairly small scraps of my attention.

All too soon we reach my classroom. "So I'll see you at lunch, then?" I ask, trying to be casual. I think I pretty much pull it off. To my disappointment, Pacey shrugs, uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure," he says. "I thought I'd better try to talk to Andie. You know, just so she doesn't get blindsided like Dawson did." He looks worried, as though afraid I'll misinterpret his desire to talk to his ex-girlfriend. I think of the evening I spent sitting on my porch with Andie as she cried after her failed attempt to get him back. I wonder whether it's not partly my fault he wouldn't go out with her again.

"That's a good idea," I say, reassuringly. "She deserves to know what's going on, why there's so much tension between you, Dawson, and I. That's a really considerate thing to do, Pace." Pacey's face relaxes into a relieved grin.

"Ok, then, I guess I'd better get to my own class," he says.

"Guess so," I say, amused that he's making no move to actually leave. We stand there for a beat, then I raise an eyebrow.

"So," he says.

"So," I parrot back. He looks like he's trying to decide something. Last time he looked like that he was about to tell me he loved me, so I'm kind of wondering what to expect. Suddenly he moves forward and gives me a soft, sweet, kiss on the cheek. I close my eyes, and before I know it he's stepped back, grinning cheekily.

"I couldn't help myself," he explains, shrugging, as he starts to walk backwards. "See you later, Jo!" Then he turns and gets swallowed up in the sea of students. I stand for a minute, my hand raised to touch the cheek still burning from his kiss, before blushing and heading into class.


	9. Comfort

I should probably have started to worry as soon as Pacey took me aside. Ever since my disastrous attempt to get him back he'd been trying his best to be a good friend, but there was still sometimes a certain awkwardness, and he never tried to be alone with me. I'd finally come to accept that he was, in fact, over me; the pitying kindness with which he treated me most of the rest of that year was actually a little embarrassing. How could I not have seen how far he'd drifted from me? What was I thinking trying to get him back with a lie like that? Nevertheless, there's some quality about him that just won't quite let me get over it all. So when he asked me to go sit with him outside during lunchtime I agreed, and I can't deny that there was a little spark of hope that he missed me, that he wanted to spend time with me.

I could tell as soon as we sat down that he was troubled by something. Again, that little bit of hope I couldn't get rid of flared up. Maybe he wanted me to be his confidante again. I was glad he felt he could come to me with his problems.

"Look, Andie," he began awkwardly. "This is going to be a bit difficult, but I think that we need to be honest with each other, so there's something you need to know." I stared at him, honestly a bit confused. That's when I saw the pitying look in his eyes, the tender concern that I would have been glad of, had it been accompanied by any passion at all. It wasn't.

"Recently, I've started developing feelings for someone...for Joey," he said, voicing my greatest fear. On one level I knew it was coming; I had seen how attentive he'd been all year, and if there's one thing I can recognize it's a Pacey in love. I'd tried to justify the consideration as just another aspect of their long friendship, but ever since I'd returned home there was an undercurrent to their relationship that worried me. The words were still devastating, though.

"Are you...are you and Joey together, then?" I asked, not sure whether I wanted to know the answer. Still, I'd like some warning if I'm going to walk in on them making out in the hallway. I shy away from that mental image, amazed at how easily my mind conjures it. Pacey gave a short chuckle, and I glanced at him for a moment to see a wry smile twist his mouth.

"No, that would be entirely too easy," he said with a faint hint of bitterness. "She's taking time to think...to decide between me and Dawson. He wants her back." He was gazing out in the distance, a palpable sadness and resignation settling on his shoulders. "I mean, it's not like she'd ever choose me, but there's all this weird tension now between the three of us, and Dawson's furious at me, and, well, I just thought you should hear it straight from the horse's mouth."

He looked so miserable that part of me wanted to comfort him, but the rest is still reeling from what he's said. Not only does he not want me, but now he's gotten himself embroiled in a messy love triangle with very little chance of giving him anything but grief. He'd rather pine over Joey, lose his best friend over her, than even consider coming back to me? I drew a sharp breath, trying to keep in my tears. I didn't want to hurt him anymore, but I couldn't help lashing out, jumping up to yell down at him.

"God, Pacey, you're so stupid! Why would you even try to get between them? Dawson isn't ever going to forgive you! And she won't ever love you the way you love her. The way I love you..." I trailed off in horror at the last phrase to leave my mouth. I really hadn't intended to say that. Pacey looked pale and shell-shocked. I'm sure I just vocalized some of his worst fears. Still, the pity returned to his eyes as I confessed my lingering feelings. He stood slowly and stepped towards me, raising his hand before dropping it again to his side.

"Andie," he started, but I cut him off.

"Pacey, don't," I cried, when another thought occurred to me. "Is this the reason you wouldn't take me back? All those months ago?"

"Andie," he pled, clearly not wanting to go there.

"No, really. Tell me, Pacey. You owe me honesty, at least. Were you already in love with her then? Were you?" I was glad he'd taken us some distance from the school, because I could hear my voice rising as I stepped closer to him. He stepped back. I grabbed his arm, forcing him to pay attention to me. For some reason I wanted to know, wanted to hear all the painful details at once. "What about when I came back? You were relieved that I'd slept with Mark, weren't you? You wanted to get rid of me so you could be free to follow Joey around without me to distract you." He was shaking his head, by now white as a ghost, trying to break my tirade enough to contradict me, but I saw the shade of shame cross his face, and I knew it was true, maybe not consciously, but somewhere deep inside.

I wound slowly down, exhausted by this brief but intense burst of anger. At last I whispered, "Did you love her before you loved me?" The silence answered for itself. Pacey was looking away from me by then, eyes closed tightly. I think he was trying not to cry. I didn't try at all anymore. Tears were coursing down my cheeks.

Finally, Pacey opened his eyes and turned to me, his face a picture of remorse. "Andie, I did love you. Please don't ever doubt that. I'm so sorry..." he trailed off, then repeated himself. "I'm sorry," he whispered, then turned and walked away from the school. I watched him go, rooted to the spot. I went home and curled up on my bed, where I'm lying now with no more tears to cry.

When I leave Andie, I can't bear to go back to school. I may not be in love with Andie like I used to be, but I never wanted to hurt her. I head towards the harbour, aiming for the dockyards. I'm fit company right now for neither man nor beast, but my girl iTrue Love/i will take me in. Working on her is always soothing.

I know it's not very nice to tell Andie that I'd rather be rejected by Joey than be together with Andie, but it's the truth, and I think it always will be. I boxed up my feelings for Joey for a long time, and now that they're out in the open they're not going anywhere. Andie deserves more than the leftover bits of a heart given long ago to someone else. I hope someone's there for her now, but it can't be me.

I wonder, as I frequently do, why life has to be so complicated. I mean, we're teenagers. We should not be worried about the loves of our lives at this point. We should be falling in and out of love a mile a minute. I think back to the time when I was somehow the most typical teen of my sad little social circle, lusting after teachers and cheerleaders, and am depressed to realize that even then, part of me was just waiting for Joey.

When Pacey didn't return to school, I admit I started to get worried. I can't decide, though, exactly what I'm worried about. Rationally, I know that his conversation with Andie was probably very emotional, and that he just didn't feel like he could deal with class. Pacey is not exactly a model student when it comes to attendance (or anything else), so this was eminently plausible.

The other option, which I'm ashamed of even entertaining, is that Andie told Pacey she was still in love with him, he realized that he was a fool for thinking he wanted a prudish, argumentative witch like me rather than a nice, sweet, blonde like Andie, and they're off somewhere having passionate reunion sex (like I said, I freely admit it's improbable).

I'm not sure whether it's concern for his well-being or jealousy that prompts me to head towards the dockyards, where I'm sure he'll be found if he's brooding, but I do know that that's where I want to be. I'm somewhat impatient, but lacking a car today, so I have no choice; I have to beg Jen for a ride. Thank God Grams is pretty good about letting her have the car to get to school. I stop by her locker on the way out of the building.

"So, Jen," I say, smiling in a friendly manner she knows off the bat is false. "I know that I've been less than straightforward with you lately--" she cuts me off.

"And you made me sit through an excruciatingly awkward lunch with you and Dawson today," she adds, smiling sweetly.

"And I made you sit through an excruciatingly awkward lunch with Dawson and me today," I add, grudgingly. "I was kind of hoping I could bum a ride from you, though." I see Dawson at the far end of the hallway and duck behind her locker door. "Quickly." I know I need to be giving Dawson a chance, but right now he's not my first priority. I mollify my guilt by promising myself I'll stop by his place later. Jen's laughing at me now, but she's nodding.

"Right this way," she says, ushering me quickly out in front of her, shielding me from Dawson's gaze. I can tell by the way she's grinning that she's entirely too amused by the situation, but manages to keep her peace until we're in the car. She even manages to stay quiet until we've pulled out of the parking lot, but we've only been driving about a minute when she glances sidelong at me and says, "So, it seems the love triangle is out in the open."

I blush. "Has it been that obvious?" I ask.

"Until recently? No, only a little bit. Aside from a few slipups, you and Pacey have been playing your cards pretty close to the chest; I don't think Dawson suspected anything was developing between you. I assume something's happened to change that." I blink.

"You make it sound like Pacey and I have been carrying on behind people's backs or something! You know that's not true."

"No, no, that's not what I mean. But to the casual observer, it's been pretty obvious for quite some time that this would come to a head someday. Pacey's been getting less and less able to hide how he feels about you for awhile now." This astonishes me. "Speaking of which, I assume I'm taking you to his boat rather than your house?" I blush, but don't deny it.

"He was going to talk to Andie at lunch today about...about everything. He didn't come back to school, and I was...worried about him." Jen clearly senses my hesitation.

"You're worried they're having wild, passionate reunion sex," she says, knowingly. I blush even more darkly, and try to stammer out a denial. She laughs at me for a moment before giving a more reassuring smile and saying more softly "You don't have anything to worry about, Joey. Pacey's so wrapped up in you he hardly notices other girls are there, even Andie. But I'm sure you'll feel better when you see for yourself," she says, turning into a parking lot not far from the iTrue Love/i, but enough distance away that I can approach by myself.

"Thanks, Jen," I say, meaning more than just the ride.

"You know, no one's really explained to me what brought all this on..." she says, leadingly.

"I'll come by later and fill you in," I say, discarding my plan to visit Dawson. Girl time really isn't my thing, but I'm finding it kind of comforting to confide in Jen.

"Deal," she says, warmly. "I'll try to get Grams to have warm chocolate chip cookies ready." I smile back, surprised at how easily we fall into friendship when we're not competing for boys. Looking out the window, I realize I can see Pacey sitting forlornly on the True Love, for now just staring out towards the water. I feel terrible for having doubted him while he sat there, miserable and alone.

"I should go make sure he's ok," I say, subdued now. "See you later."

I'm staring out at the water, indulging in a good brood, so when my favourite voice in the world floats over to my ears, for a moment I'm half convinced that it's my imagination, as she's mostly what I've been thinking about anyway. Then I hear the words again, this time tempered with amusement. "I said, permission to come aboard?"

I turn and rush to help Joey over the side. I know this sounds sappy, but honestly, seeing her smile at me is like feeling sunshine on your face after a storm. I bask in it for a moment, my heart tumbling just a little as she runs a hand down my arm. "You okay, Pace?" she asks, her eyes wide with concern for me. I want nothing more than to fling myself into her arms and have her comfort me, soothing away all the tumult and confusion, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Instead, I grab her hand and pull her along the deck until I reach a place we can sit comfortably.

"I'm better now that you're here," I hear myself say, the words tumbling unbidden from my lips. I wince, not only because I shouldn't be saying that, but also because I can usually do better than a line that cheesy. I feel her hand slip from mine. "I'm sorry," I whisper. There's silence for a moment, and I look away from her before I hear myself confess, "I can't do anything right."

"Oh, Pacey," she says, sounding so sad and compassionate and caring that I again wonder what I could possibly have done to deserve having someone like her in my life, in any capacity at all. "You know that's not true." She puts her arms around me in a fierce hug. She leaves one arm across my back when she leans back, and I put my head down on her shoulder, desperately needing comfort.

"I broke her heart," I say, quietly. "The look on her face...she asked me whether I'd wanted to break up with her, whether it was because of you that I wouldn't take her back."

"Was it?" Joey asks. I can't see her face, but her voice is neutral. I shrug. I'm already making my neediness for her embarrassingly obvious. I don't really want to dwell on the length and extent of my somewhat pathetic pining for her.

"How was lunch with Dawson?" I ask, wanting to change the subject.

"Awkward," Joey replies, and I can tell she's smiling a little. As much as possessive Dawson pisses her off, he kind of amuses her, too. The warm affection underneath her wry tone makes me uncomfortable. "He's not really Dawson in situations like this, where he feels he needs to be competitive. He'll calm down eventually and go back to being same old Dawson we know and love."

I have a number of problems with this statement. For one thing, I think competitive Dawson is very close to the heart of who he really is, rather than being something that appears at random moments. I, for one, think he's acting exactly like himself, dramatic and judgmental. Also, I think he'll only really calm down once he gets the girl, and any appearances to the contrary are displays put on to fool Joey into thinking he's a rational, caring individual she wants to be with. I love the guy; he was practically my brother for so long there'll always be a tie between us. Any illusions I had about him, though, were stripped away some time ago.

Needless to say, I don't say anything about any of this to Joey. She's not in a position to listen charitably to me trashing my competitor right now.

Understandably enough, my thoughts gradually turn from my supposedly best friend to the rather more pleasing prospect of the girl I'm leaning against. Being this close to her is starting to give me ideas, so I reluctantly sit up, squeezing her hand in thanks as I do so. Joey knows what I'm doing and shifts away from me a bit with a wry smile. "You feeling better now?" she asks.

"Yeah," I tell her, mostly truthfully. There's still an ache of guilt and regret deep in my chest, but her quiet presence is enormously soothing.

"Good," she replies. She reaches over and puts a hand on my shoulder before leaning in to give me a soft, reassuring kiss on the cheek that absolutely stops my heart for a moment. She rests her forehead on my temple, whispering, "You're one of the good ones, Pace. You haven't done anything wrong." Then she's leaning back, giving my arm a companionable squeeze as she stands up. I stare at her, wordlessly. One kiss on the cheek and Josephine Potter can entirely shut down all my higher brain processes. "I should go," she says. "I'll see you tomorrow." With that she's gone, and I'm left with an ache in my heart, but a smile on my face.


End file.
